


Passion

by ReallyAwkwardMedia



Category: Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated (TV 2010)
Genre: Awkward Tension, Cute, Domestic, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, Married Couple, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:36:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReallyAwkwardMedia/pseuds/ReallyAwkwardMedia
Summary: Marcie has a particular hobby she likes to indulge herself in. Pity Velma was not on it... at least, not yet.





	Passion

“Err,” Marcie started, “V?”

“Hmm?” responded Velma with a deliberate sigh.

“What is going on?” asked Marcie as she raised her eyebrow.

A shrug. “Nothing,”

Marcie’s face twisted into a grimace. She did not really understand what was happening, in spite the fact she was beginning to grow into it. What that ‘It’ was, well, it can be only described as an gross encroachment of someone’s personal space.

Marcie was… _had_ been sitting comfortably on her reclining chair in her studio minding her hobby as usual. In front of her, arranged in order of coolness, was no less than two hundred dollars’ worth of her last paycheck. To anyone else who might look at the mess in her table they might only see plastic toys. To Marcie, this was her passion.

Tabletop gaming had been Marcie’s love for most of her life, but not her main devotion, that title was taken up by someone much closer to Marcie’s heart. Still, having grown fond of the hobby had amounted a firm dedication to it. For Marcie it was just that, relaxing after a long day’s hard work laboriously painting a small army of plastic miniature figures in her private studio. It might seem a bit overkill just having a room just for their hobby but Marcie found that she was quite tame in comparison to other people she had met who shared her interest. It was here were Marcie would often come at the end of a long and arduous day and paint her minis.

But Marcie was not doing that just now, at least not rolling the dice to be specific. She would do that later, mercilessly stomping the opposition that is, after she was finished with this new box set. But for now, she was painting. As a good hobbyist, she relished the calm of simply sitting in her gaming chair, a mix of barely audible tunes in the background and preparing her miniatures for an epic battle in the far grim future. It was even more a joy today since that same morning she had stumbled upon her favorite store and purchased the latest box of her favorite table top game.

After spending the previous two days in just assembling, fixing and preparing nearly sixty figures, thanks in part to years of expertise in gluing the damnable things, Marcie had at last come to see the fruits of her labor come to fruition. Her little army now stood before her, posed for an epic battle in the near foreseeable future, awaiting her command.

And then Velma happened.

Now, before Marcie had the chance to even acknowledge her beloved wife in the same room, Marcie had come to complete halt before she even began.

In the blur of an orange second, Velma Dinkley had stormed into Marcie’s studio and just plopped right down into her lap. Furthermore, without asking, her wife had thrown her arms around her neck, folded her legs up and made herself comfortable in the position.

So there, that was the image that Marcie was currently questioning. Again, not that she minded, feeling the warmth of her lovely Velma draped across her was what gave her the energy to churn through a very tiring day for the past nine years now. She loved every minute of it, knowing she, a lanky nerd had captured the most precious mind and heart in this moot world.

That still did not explain why Velma was on her. Nuzzling her, purring even, much to Marcie’s surprise.

“Ahem,”

Velma burrowed her face into Marcie’s chest, her nose gracing the pale skin of her collarbone showing no thanks to a well-worn white V-neck shirt she wore.

Turning a shade deeper than the current paint she had on her brush, Marcie let out a second cough, this time less fake and more aroused.

“V?” she asked, her voice a decibel higher. “Are you sure you are okay?”

“Yeah,” answered Velma with a deep exhale that sent a lukewarm breeze down Marcie’s sternum. Worst of all, Marcie, with brush already dipped in red paint and having to fight the urge to wrap her own arms around her partner, let out an involuntary shiver.

Yeah, no, this was not going to work. Marcie, nibbling the insides of her cheek, looked around. When Velma had suddenly, and unexpectedly might she add, cuddled up to her she had done so a bit brutish. Having pulled the seat backwards, Velma had tugged Marcie away from her station a decent distance away, rotated her around and then slid right into her legs. That same move had left Marcie unable to sit her fresh brush and the pristine mini somewhere safe.

Taking a swallow of air, hoping that her movement might not cause either to fall down, Marcie then began to swivel her chair back around. It was no easy task, her room was mostly a slippery vinyl as a preferred method to avoid losing the accursed little pieces that every now and then flew away when she was snipping them of their sprue. To make things all the more difficult, Marcie was currently wearing slippers, both of which were dangling dangerously from her toes, making the venture more a skill than needed.

After five minutes of unladylike grunting, groaning and a few mumbled words here and there, she did it. She got the chair facing back to her desk. The same desk that was about four feet away from her. And already she had lost a slipper.

Definitely not the day she had been hoping for.

“Velma, can you get off me? Please,”

Velma only tightened her grip, a little whine of protest to add insult to injury. Even if that whine was pretty much the nominee for most adorable sound.

With the request refuted, Marcie then let out a loud groan.

Using her toes to grip into the just-cleaned surface, Marcie shuffled back closer to her desk. Normally this was no issue, her chair easily able to move fluidly around to best accommodate her task without having to stand up. But today was not the standard affair. No, Marcie had to fight a flimsy slipper, slick floor plus the added weight (literally) on her lap.

By the time she closed the gap down to a foot, enough for her to set the already dried up paint brush into the cup of water and toy on the table, she was out of breath. Face red, a droplet of sweat running down, Marcie slumped back into the recline of her chair. She was had definitely expected this amount of physical exertion any time soon.

After letting her heart slow down to its usual rhythm, Marcie then looked down. Quite comfy on her breasts was Velma nuzzling away, not a care in the world.

Marcie meanwhile was torn between two hemispheres. On one hand she was clearly not happy about what was going on, primarily on the question as to _what_ was going on. And on the opposite she was loving the impromptu cuddle time with Velma. To best put it, her brain was yet making a concise decision as to what to do about any of it.

Velma, no doubt enjoying the moment, had suddenly raised her head when she noticed Marcie had gone dead quiet. Much to her delight she caught a lone drop of sweat run down the length of Marcie’s neck into her collarbone. Taking the initiative she captured the droplet with her tongue.

Lapping the salty skin, Velma was rewarded with Marcie squirming beneath her, moaning all the same as she pushed her chest outwards in reflex. Accepting the invitation, Velma ran the flat of her tongue upwards, lips closing in on the jawline of her wife.

“V!” cried out Marcie as her hands found grip on Velma’s shoulder, tugging her away halfheartedly.

Velma was torn from her position, held at arm length by a less-than-thrilled Marcie staring back at her with panting breath.

“W-what was that?” Marcie growled at how hoarse her voice sounded.

Velma gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’m not sure what you are talking about?”

Marcie pursed her lips, brows digging deeper into her brow. She might not be the world’s best detective like Velma was but she knew her wife well enough to know when she was lying. Painfully obvious too.

“Yes you do.”

Velma puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms. “You are just seeing things.”

 _No I’m not,_ Marcie wanted to reply. Her vision was bad but her perception was almost flawless if she did say so herself. She prided in being able to see things in on unbiased perspective much to the chagrin of many of her acquaintances. It did not earn her many friends for being open about how she saw certain things but it was reassuring to her to know that she never lied about her true feelings.

And in this case she was dead sure that something was up with Velma. The only nagging issue was that Marcie did not know _what_ that was. Nothing in the last couple of hours pointed to there being anything wrong with her. Marcie recalled back nearly the whole week but came back with zero results.

Perhaps it was an inevitable thing to say that their lives had plateaued, it had, but their love for each other had not. If anything, Marcie continued to love Velma even more with each passing day. The same could be said of Velma as well since the two had a open and honest relationship that made all others around them seem like horrendous drama flops. All of this made it more confusing to Marcie then to fail see what had caused Velma suddenly behave abnormal.

By now in their lives, 9 years happily married, they had established the intimacy into a routine. Every morning they woke to their respective alarms, sometimes spending the early hours with each other if the day was slow. After they both departed to their lines of work they still kept in touch with text message or calls from one another. Just as always Marcie had come directly home after work before Velma did, only stopping to make a quick stop at the groceries store. Marcie then cooked up a tasty meal for Velma to relax after chasing more morons in disguises before having a quick make out session earlier that evening.

Since it was Friday Marcie and Velma both fixated on their own hobbies during the afternoons as per agreed on. It allowed Velma ample time to update her online journal meanwhile Marcie worked on quickly painting her mint plastic army.

Meanwhile, as her brain was working double time, Velma had returned to her former spot. Marcie gave a shudder, feeling the lips of her wife nipping at her bare skin, leaving a warm trail of saliva that sent electricity down to her abdomen.

Frankly, Marcie did not know what was going on. She had done everything to keep in touch with her Velma. Talking, texting, kissing, cooking, more kissing. Nothing was amiss. Even their conversations had become a bit more frequent these past couple of days thanks to Velma herself initiating most of them. It all began about a week ago when…

…When Marcie first purchased her game set.

Is Velma… was she…No, it couldn’t be.

Well, maybe.

Marcie raised her hands, tying them around Velma’s wrists gently. Velma, noticing Marcie take incentive, raised her head in question, eyes dark in hunger. She instead was met with a sweet kiss that startled her at first. When it began to dawn that Marcie was pressing in hunger for something more than just a peck on the lips, Velma happily obliged with a sigh of relief.

Opening her mouth, Velma tilted her head to one side to better angle herself, smiling into their kiss smugly. Marcie loosened her grip on Velma’s wrist but still kept them at bay. Squirming closer, Velma pushed out her chest towards Marcie’s, the soft of their speeding hearts audible from this close a position. More incredibly, Marcie tugged at her lips, vying for dominance that stirred Velma further to lean closer. The tips of their noses touched, the air around them growing warmer while only the sounds of their kisses and moans filled the room.

Marcie was the first to draw back, as she did Velma eagerly tried to follow but came short due to the height she sat in. Taking in the sight Marcie smirked, the image of Velma so flustered from that single session a sign that Marcie still had it in her. Even more telling was the rush of heat Marcie could feel in Velma’s lower region.

Opting to tend to her wife, Marcie ran her hands down Velma’s arms until they reached her curvy waist. Inching closer until there was less than an inch between them Marcie whispered to her beloved.

“Should have said something about it Dinkley. Might have changed my priorities sooner,” she said in a husky voice.

A bright blush broke out across Velma’s cheeks, her freckles turning into a spectacle that made Marcie lick her lips in anticipation. Suppressing a shudder, Velma pressed her forehead against the other’s, her lips forming a wide smile.

“Didn’t want to take time off your hobby.”

Marcie snorted. “And you sitting on my lap didn’t?”

Velma shrugged. “A compromise.”

Marcie shook her head laughing. Perhaps not the most of practical solution considering the time wasted. However, now that Marcie had a proper bearing of what Velma wanted, she intended to make up for the time lost today.

“V?”

“Hmm?”

Bring her lips almost as close to Velma’s without fully touching, Marcie whispered. “Here or our bedroom?”

Needless to say, Velma immediately closed the gap, melding their lips back together once more with less uncertainty than before. Not that the last couple of times she had been too hesitant to begin with. Running her hands across the small of Velma’s back, Marcie leaned back into her seat, allowing the weigh of her wife to press them both down until the chair could not give anymore.

“Gotta hand it to you V,” Marcie gave a throaty chuckle, “Never would have thought you’d get jealous over a couple of miniature toys,”

Velma growled but did not argue back, too intent of making full use of Marcie’s hobby time to explore their shared passion. And Marcie was all too willing to accept.

**Author's Note:**

> New Warhammer 40,000 box sets have released alongside a couple new rules. If this is not your thing then by all means just gloss over it and carry on reading as per usual. Otherwise, if you read closely this story implies that Marcie does indeed play the game.
> 
> Additionally, this work is somewhat similar to that the previous work, Turtleneck Sweater, due to some implied content, for which I am sorry.
> 
> Next Post will be on July 8... In a couple of hours.


End file.
